Malfoy Estate, Wiltshire, England.
In the magnificent main hall, beneath the enchanted ceiling, a huge crystal chandelier floated.
The crystal chandelier emitted a warm and bright light, illuminating the entire main hall without missing a single corner.
A thick bearskin carpet was laid on the spotless floor.
On a cabinet not far from the reception table, there was a silver incense burner.
A house-elf with bat ears stepped forward, opened the incense burner lid, took out the remaining third of the incense, filled it with a whole piece of incense, and relit it.
After lighting the incense, the house-elf went to the fireplace and picked up a piece of firewood to put in.
Before it could put the firewood into the fireplace, the burning fireplace flames suddenly changed color, and green flames danced wildly inside the fireplace.
The house-elf's expression changed, and he immediately put the firewood back in its place, disappearing into thin air with a snap of his fingers.
...
Passing through the Floo Network, Lucius and Draco stepped out of the fireplace.
"Dad, what about my flying broom?" Draco was still a little unwilling. "You promised to buy me a flying broom."
Lucius didn't speak, but raised his left arm and shook it gently. After confirming that there was no burning sensation, he let out a soft sigh.
He seemed to be in a better mood. He patted Draco's hair and said earnestly, "I will write to Quidditch Boutique. I will do what I promised you."
"But you must also remember! You must keep your promise to me. Any questions? You are my son, the future heir of the Malfoy family. Remember that!"
Seeing Lucius's serious expression, Draco nodded repeatedly, "Dad, okay! I'll remember!"
"Go back and rest!" Lucius waved his hand, leaned on his cane, and went upstairs to his study.
Hearing the sound of footsteps on the stairs, the tall, middle-aged woman came out of her room and saw Lucius sweating profusely. She immediately went to greet him.
She asked in a crisp, indifferent voice, "Lucius, something happened? You look terrible."
Lucius took Narcissa's hand and gently shook his head. "Narcissa, it's nothing."
"That Borgin… is trying to raise the price?" Narcissa's brows furrowed slightly, like faint lines drawn on a delicate canvas.
"The Ministry of Magic has suddenly gone mad, searching for dark magic items. Do they think the Ministry of Magic is clean? Have they forgotten our annual donations?"
Lucius shook his head again. "Of course not. Our deal went smoothly. He'll come to the manor tomorrow and take those things away."
"As for the Ministry of Magic... it was Arthur Weasley who pushed for it. They wanted to implement the Muggle Protection Act. After all, they are the largest pure-blood family, so there's nothing we can do about it..."
"All that's left is the advantage in numbers," Narcissa said arrogantly, a sneer playing on her lips.
"There were so many people that they had to keep splitting up. I remember Arthur Weasley, he and his family crammed into that ramshackle burrow in a little village, right?"
"Of course they can't compare to us." Lucius forced a smile. "This will all pass quickly, don't worry."
Sensing that her husband was still hiding something, Narcissa, who had received family education, stopped pressing him and nodded helplessly, saying, "Alright, I'll have the house-elf make you some tea. Take care and get some rest."
"You're the best!" Lucius exclaimed, gently embracing Narcissa and pressing their cheeks together.
Seeing Narcissa return to her room, Lucius took a deep breath and turned the doorknob of the study.
The study's decor leaned towards a serious style, lacking the opulence of the main hall, making it ideal for contemplation.
Lucius locked the door, casually put down his cane, leaned his back against the door, and slowly slid to the ground.
He took a deep breath and slowly pulled up the sleeve of his left arm. When he saw the skin on his left arm, cold sweat once again soaked his forehead.
A grayish-black mark appeared on the skin of his left arm: a skull with its mouth open, from which a thick python emerged...
He stared intently at his arm until the grayish-black mark faded and disappeared, returning to its flesh color.
"The Dark Mark... why is it still appearing... he shouldn't be able to come back! Could it be that he wasn't really defeated?"
"Who exactly is that boy? He shouldn't be the Dark Lord... He seems to be the child that Dumbledore saved last year..."
"Would Dumbledore save the Dark Lord? Why would I have such a dream? Absolutely not! Something else must have happened at Hogwarts!"
Sunlight streamed through the window, scattering across the floor in front of him, creating wildly dancing spots of light, much like Lucius's state of mind at that moment.
He raised his left arm again, staring at the skin that had returned to normal, his eyes flickering as he considered whether to make further attempts.
After hesitating for a long time, he stretched out his right hand, his trembling fingertips slowly approaching his left arm.
He tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and thrust his fingers sharply into his left arm, into the skin where the Dark Mark had just appeared.
His fingertips dug deep into his flesh through his skin, as if they were about to pierce his bone...
Nothing happened...
Lucius opened his eyes and stared blankly at the red mark on his left arm.
...
One of the uses of the Dark Mark is to summon Voldemort by pressing the mark.
In the past, when they encountered wizards they couldn't handle, they would usually use this method to bring Voldemort to the scene.
Using this method also comes at a price: once the hostile wizards are all dealt with, Voldemort will punish the Death Eaters who summoned him.
The punishment was very simple, yet extremely terrible—the Cruciatus Curse, a curse personally cast by Voldemort.
Voldemort's reasoning was quite simple: such a weak enemy, and he actually needs to be summoned to deal with it? Cruciatus Curse!
To Voldemort, it seemed that most wizards, apart from Dumbledore, were weak, including most of the Death Eaters.
Voldemort merely used the Death Eaters as tools to fight against Dumbledore's allies.
It was precisely because Lucius saw this through that, after learning that Voldemort had been defeated by Harry Potter and could not possibly return, he decisively chose to surrender himself.
He used the excuse of being "controlled by the Imperius Curse" to exonerate himself, and through financial maneuvering, avoided being imprisoned in Azkaban.
Those so-called loyal Death Eaters were basically purged and have been imprisoned in Azkaban ever since.
Since Voldemort was defeated, the Dark Mark on his arm has been hidden, and everything seems to be over.
...
The Dark Mark did not reappear, and there was no burning sensation, which finally relieved Lucius.
A gentle summer breeze blew into the study through the window. He gripped his cane, stood up, and walked to his desk to sit down.
The spots of light streaming into the study quieted down a bit, no longer dancing so wildly…
….
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